


Arrow Making 101

by pherryt



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Arrows, First Kiss, Fluff, Low Self Esteem, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Tony's a little over the top, but in a good way, falling off of buildings, guilty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 06:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18867901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Clint might have a bit of a crush on Tony Stark, but he's not planning on telling anyone. Or acting on it. Instead, he'll just find Tony in his lab and spend time with the tech genius as he  makes Clint whatever new arrow style he's asked for this week.





	Arrow Making 101

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Arrow Making 101](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19384174) by [NSIW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSIW/pseuds/NSIW)



> As picked by Arson Baby - this is my Tony/Clint square for my Clint Barton bingo. Also, they gave me the idea of Tony finding it adorable as Clint came up with excuses to see him in the lab -generally with the request to help him upgrade his arrows etc. 
> 
> it went from flat out adorable fluff to fluff with angst because apparently i love that. 
> 
> un beta'd, but i'm falling asleep and i really should go to bed.

* * * * * *  >>\-----CLINT-----> * * * * **

Clint didn’t need anybody to make his arrows. He’d made his own for _years_ before he joined the Avengers, including specialty arrows with exploding tips, and he’d been working on perfecting the boomerang arrow for a while now.

So no, he didn’t _need_ anybody else to make his arrows, but nearly day after day, he was coming up with yet another idea, running down to Tony’s workshop and running it past him.

The ideas ranged from the truly ridiculous –

_“Shoots confetti! We can blind our enemies!”_

_“Or start a rave, which, okay, would be all sorts of distracting…” Tony mused._

\- to actually helpful, like upping the tensile strength on the grappling arrows Clint already had. Tony had leaped all over that one, mumbling something about nanotech and stupid archers that had tendencies to fall off of buildings. Clint really wasn’t listening, to be honest, he’d been too busy staring at Tony’s ass as he bent over the workbench.

So, okay, he didn’t _need_ Tony’s help, but he just couldn’t seem to stop himself from coming up with stuff and telling Tony, just to see him as often as possible. At some point, Tony was sure to figure it out and put the kebash on it, Clint was sure. Tony wasn’t dumb, after all.

Tony waved a hand idly as he ranted about something or other before pulling it back in to make another adjustment with his micro tools. God, Clint could stand to stare at him all fucking day. Cause it wasn’t just the ass. Tony wasn’t just the playboy billionaire he played at for the public. He was gorgeous, built and, oh yeah, so damn sassy, too.

He was a marvel. And unlike Thor, or Cap, or even Bruce, Tony was as close to a normal guy as you could get. Take away the suit and… it was like Hawkeye without his bow.

Okay, fine, the same could be said for Sam and Nat and even Rhodey, but it wasn’t quite the same. Tony hadn’t served in the military, or been trained to be an assassin, and yet the man still kicked ass. He didn’t give up, was resourceful as all fuck, and it was kinda hot.

Maybe all the way hot.

So, yeah, maybe Clint had a bit of a crush.

Just a little.

Not that he was going to admit that to anybody.

‘course, Nat already knew, but that was Nat. She knew everything. It was kinda what she did. They did. Whatever. And he’d never been able to lie to her, as she’d more than proved when she cornered him just the other night under the guise of watching a movie. He really should have known better.

_“You’re really not that subtle,” she said, rolling her eyes._

_“I’m a spy, Nat,” Clint protested. “And so are you. You’re the only one who knows.”_

_“No, I’m pretty sure Cap does. And Director Fury. Pepper too. Oh, and what’s that one robot’s name? Dum-E?”_

_Clint threw popcorn at her to get her to shut up. Nat just smirked at him._

So here he was, a lovesick, besotted fool, coming up with every excuse he could think of to see Tony. And Tony always seemed happy to see him, to bend his mind towards whatever absurd idea Clint had come up with that day. Honestly, he had no idea what to do next. Cause there was _no_ way the crush was returned. Clint was pretty sure Tony had at thing for either Pepper or Cap – for all his vaunted spy skills, he hadn’t been able to figure out which – and he wasn’t going to get in the way, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t dream, right?

* * * * * *  >>\-----TONY-----> * * * * **

Tony looked forward to Clint’s visits, obviously fabricated as some of them were. The other man was adorable in his blatant, totally not a secret, checking out of Tony. He could feel Clint’s gaze lingering and Tony preened under it. It felt _good_ to be noticed by Hawkeye, by _Clint_.

Dum-E chirped at him as Clint wandered in and Tony glared at the helper bot. He pointed at it. “Don’t you sass me,” he warned. Dum-E waggled a bit and Tony knew he was just laughing at him.

Clint chuckled, his hands shoved into his pockets – Tony may have threatened him the last time he’d touched something without asking, _after_ Dum-E had covered him flame retardant and Tony’d had to drag him down to medical, Clint protesting the entire way – and shook his head.

“Can you really understand him? Like R2-D2?”

“Please,” Tony scoffed. “I _made_ him. You don’t think I wouldn’t know anything I made intimately?” Tony smirked as Clint’s face pinked up at the word ‘intimately’ and _knew_ he was taking it an entirely different way. Which was really the whole reason Tony had said it. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “All right, Katniss, what’ve you got for me today?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon, bent over the work bench together as they talked modifications to some of Clint’s arrows. Tony was constantly impressed by the level of skill and ingenuity Clint possessed and wondered what he’d be capable of if he ever tried to expand outside of arrows.

The first time Clint had approached him for a specialty arrow had almost been a disaster, but Clint had patiently explained different arrow making methods and styles until tony worked out the best way to make what Clint was asking for. It was clear Clint could make his own ammo, but Tony let the farce slide with the poorly made excuse of Clint wanting something outside of his particular arrow making abilities.

Tony didn’t believe it for a second.

Still, it was a fun little game that afforded Tony a break from his other work and some allow him time to spend with his favorite Avenger.

It was a little less fun when two days later, their arrow making session was interrupted by a call for the Avengers and things took a downward turn from there.

The attack on a downtown Starbucks not only didn’t make any sense – why a Starbucks, of all places? – it had horrified Clint to no end. Sometimes, Tony thought the man _breathed_ coffee. The Avengers were outnumbered by a factor of 10 and, while not very powerful, were just too numerous to end the fight quickly.

And when Hawkeyes grappling hook cable snapped and he plummeted from the high rise he’d holed up on, Tony’s heart stopped, he was sure of it.

He punched another baddie into a nearby wall and did a quick, calculating look around him, JARVIS helpfully showing trajectories and anything else Tony could need, but all it showed was that none of the possible air support was anywhere near Clint.

“JARVIS, thrusters to max on my mark–“

“Sir, I advise against that action. Quarters are too close for that amount of speed.”

“Overridden!” Tony shouted, swinging himself about on an intercept course for Clint. “Mark!”

JARVIS had been right to warn Tony of the danger, of course. Tony managed to catch Clint, the impact of the catch doing it’s damage was bad enough, but he’d been unable to turn or stop his flight in time to keep from smashing through a brick wall. He tried to soften the blow with a repulsor blast, to clear away the obstacle before they even hit it. He shouted at JARVIS to cut the boost, but it was far too late. He sputtered to a stop, coming to land on the 10th floor of the empty building, a moaning Clint held in his arms.

Tony swallowed at the sight of blood on Clint’s head, at the tear in his uniform over his thigh, blood spreading there as well. He was conscious, at least, already moving to stand on his own two feet with barely a wince as he put weight on his leg.

Clint would have been hurt worse had he hit the ground, but it didn’t make Tony feel any better. He opened his mouth to say something but Clint drew his bow and snapped a shot off right past Tony’s ear. Right. Bad guys. Time for everything else later.

Still, he hesitated.

“Go, Tony. I’m good here and these things just aren’t going down. We don’t have time to worry about me.”

“Right,” Tony nodded, guilt swirling as he turned and launched himself back into the air. This was _his_ fault. Clint had come to him for a better grappling arrow days ago and Tony hadn’t delivered. He’d looked at the lab time with Clint as something fun, the projects not crucial to the moment. He’d planned to do it, of course, but he hadn’t put all his focus to the project.

If he had, Clint would have had a working grappling arrow in record time and he wouldn’t have plummeted to his almost death (or serious injury) unprotected. It didn’t matter that Tony had gotten there in time to prevent that, because in so doing, he’d hurt Clint.

Fuck.

Just more proof of the trouble he caused whenever he was a selfish bastard. About the only unselfish bit about the whole situation was that Tony had at least had the good sense _not_ to make a move on Clint.

He was fairly sure if he had, the resulting, inevitable break up would have devastated the Avengers. And Tony would _not_ be responsible for that.

They were a good team, despite what should have been clashing personalities and egos. They were friends he could _trust_ , and he’d had so few of those over his life, that he wasn’t about to risk any of them.

Except, he kinda did, didn’t he?

There was only one thing to do about this.

* * * * * *  >>\-----CLINT-----> * * * * **

Clint stood outside of Tony’s lab dumbfounded and absolutely speechless. He’d _never_ been locked out before.

Come to think of it, Tony hadn’t even stopped by and visited him _once_ while he was in medical, while the thought of getting out and seeing Tony had been the only thing Clint had been looking forward too. He’d been damn grateful his injuries weren’t worse than they were. A twisted ankle from the fall - it hadn’t been planned by any means, the overwhelming odds having overrun his perch – several cuts and bruises from the close quarter fighting and the spectacular walking bruise (and maybe a broken rib or two, but he was used to that) of his entire body being accidentally used as a battering ram.

All in all, it hurt, but it was still better than hitting the pavement would have done for Clint. _Definitely not looking to recreate that whale scene in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy,_ he mused. He’d always felt bad for that poor, damn whale.

So yeah, not so bad as it could have been, and he was up and raring to go again in no time. Sam had stopped by with flowers and snark, Steve had come by with apologies and puppy dog eyes for not keeping a better eye on his teammates and a promise to do better, Nat simply brought coffee and even Bruce had popped his head in. Thor was off planet but Tony… Tony hadn’t stopped by at all and Clint couldn’t believe he’d been so doped up that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

And now he was locked out.

Of Tony’s lab.

Which meant that Tony didn’t _want_ to see him.

His eyes stung and he cleared his throat. “JARVIS, is… uh, you know what, never mind.” Hanging his head, Clint limped back to his own rooms to lick his metaphorical wounds and possibly drown a few sorrows.

Of course, it was never that freaking easy.

When he got back to his rooms, the pain that hadn’t seemed so bad before had become near overwhelming, he’d run out of coffee grounds – _how? Betrayed by past Clint! –_ and all his booze was missing.

He suspected Nat, because who else would have come into his rooms and gone through his stuff without leaving any signs?

Well, except for the note with Nat’s handwriting proclaiming “Thanks, I needed that.”

With a resigned sigh, Clint fell face first on his bed. Then regretted it with a hearty round of cursing – “I’m _fine,_ JARVIS! _Don’t_ call, Nat!” – and hoped this horrible day would end sooner, rather than later.

It didn’t.

Clint wound up nursing his wounds on his couch and watching Dog Cops. He was in no mood to be around anyone else and the only person he wanted to be around didn’t want him. He wasn’t sulking, dammit. This was a… strategic regroup… or something.

His stomach rumbled but Clint didn’t move. He didn’t have the energy to make himself move. He was pretty sure his kitchen was as empty of edible food as it had been of coffee and he, by no means, wanted to hit the common area.

That way meant people. People meant Nat seeing him mope and wanting to know why (He’d tell, too, because it was Nat and he couldn’t keep a secret from her for the life of him) or having to come face to face with Tony who obviously didn’t _want_ to see his face.

Worst part was, he couldn’t figure out what had changed so drastically in less than 24 hours to have suddenly garnered such a response.

Had Tony figured out Clint had a crush and this was his way of letting Clint down? Or, or no, it had to have been the fight. How disappointed Tony must have been when Clint had fucked up _so_ spectacularly, he’d needed to be rescued…

That had to be it.

* * * * * *  >>\-----CLINT-----> * * * * **

Clint healed, he stopped hiding in his rooms and life went back to normal.

Except he no longer made treks down to Tony’s lab and how had he _not_ realized that those excursions had taken up a big chunk of his day?

Anyway, he was done moping –

“So, what’s got you so down in the dumps?” Steve asked.

Aw, fuck, nooo…. Clint’s head hit the countertop.

“He’s pining,” Nat, _the traitor_ , said as she came through the kitchen.

“I’m not _pining_ ,” Clint protested, pushing up from the counter. She pulled his empty mug from his hand, refilled it and handed it back. He took the peace offering for what it was – a bribe.

“Clint, you met someone?” Steve asked, his eyebrow rising.

“Don’t have to act so surprised,” Clint muttered. “I’m attractive, I’ve got charm! I can totally meet people!” He deflated from his sudden rant and sighed. “It’s getting them to stick around after they see how much of a dumpster fire I _really_ am that’s the issue.”

“Clint,” Steve said, that tone of voice making Clint wince. Oh no, Cap was about to make a speech. “You are _not_ a dumpster fire. You’re a great guy. Smart, funny, resourceful and more! Anybody would be lucky to have you!”

Oh, not a speech. A pep talk. That was, somehow, even worse. Clint winced as Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, not this guy. _I’d_ be lucky to have _him_. Even if it was just as a friend.” Which would hurt but be better than _this_ , which was currently nothing. “And it’s clear he doesn’t even want me around, so… that ship has sailed.” Clint gulped down his coffee, hoping to make good his escape as soon as he finished it.

He leaped up, ignoring Steve and Nat’s _looks_ , placed his mug in the sink and took off as fast as he could, which wasn’t quite fast enough.

“He’s got it bad, huh?” Steve said.

“You have _no_ idea,” Nat said.

“I thought he liked Tony,” Steve said just as the elevator door shut, cutting off anything else he could have said. Clint slumped against the wall and JARVIS had to call his name 3 times before Clint startled and remembered to give a destination.

He almost said Tony’s lab because, outside of Nat, whenever he felt down, seeing Tony had brought him back from his low. No one had made him laugh quite like Tony did. Had.

But of course, that wasn’t an option anymore, was it? And he didn’t want to go back to his rooms, he’d been wallowing in those long enough. He needed a change of pace. He needed to ground himself.

“The roof, JARVIS,” he finally said.

“Very well, Agent Barton,” the AI said.

* * * * * *  >>\-----TONY-----> * * * * **

Tony was almost wishing he hadn’t braved the Avengers common room when he fell under the twin glares of Captain America and the Black Widow.

He faltered, almost freezing entirely before he remembered he was Iron Man and he wasn’t going to let them intimidate him. Besides, he’d done _nothing_ wrong.

This week.

He was pretty sure, though he might have to ask Pepper about that.

“What?” he asked, trying not to sound as defensive as he felt.

“You’re a dick,” Natasha said. Steve stared at him with his arms crossed over his chest, the look on his face was, ‘ _I’m so disappointed in you, Tony’_.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” Tony said dryly. “Not that it isn’t an apt description most of the time but what brought his on now?”

“Clint.” Natasha’s voice was deceptively sweet and _now_ he froze. That wasn’t a good sign, and only an idiot would cross the Black Widow and Tony liked to think he _wasn’t_ an idiot.

“Um… “

“If you don’t return Clint’s affections, then you should have just told him instead of avoiding him,” Steve said in his most disapproving Captain America voice.

Tony stared at them blankly. “What, you think I _don’t_?”

Steve shrugged. “He sure thinks so. You might want to think about _why_ he thinks so.”

“Telling me how to live my life?” Tony snarked. He couldn’t help it, even as he was doing exactly what Steve said to do. He was right. Tony _had_ been avoiding Clint, had even locked him out of the lab. But that had been for Clint’s own good because Tony had fucked up.

He hadn’t thought about how it would appear from the other side of things. He swallowed and shook his head. “Besides, he’ll get over it and move on and life’ll be just peachy.”

“Wanna try that again without the self-deprecating sarcasm?” Natasha said. Tony’s shoulders drooped. Chalk one up for the spy. “Why don’t you tell us what’s _really_ going through that head of yours?”

Tony sighed. “Clint got hurt.”

“Clint _always_ gets hurt,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “That’s not a good enough reason.”

“He got hurt because of _me_ , Romanov! I think that’s a pretty compelling reason to stay away!” Tony growled.

“Don’t be stupid,” Steve said, his arms loosening, the disappointed look giving way to sympathy. _Christ,_ Tony thought, but Steve wasn’t done. “He’d have been hurt a lot worse if he’d hit the ground. That catch was amazing, Tony! No one else could have gotten there in time.”

“He wouldn’t have _needed_ that catch if I hadn’t screwed it up!” Tony jerked around so he wouldn’t have to look at their faces and stalked over to the cabinets. He knew there was alcohol here, he’d made sure of it. If this grilling was going to continue, he was going to need it. And they were right, he couldn’t keep avoiding them.

They were his teammates after all.

_Clint_ was his teammate.

He blindly grabbed a bottle of amber colored liquor and poured it into a glass, his hand shaking so much that it spilled. He shoved the bottle away and reached for the glass, Natasha’s hand gently closing over his before he could pick it up.

“Tony, his fall wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for that. Clint tripped over the sofa last week. It’s what he does,” she said quietly.

“But it is,” Tony said weakly. “I’ve been too busy flirting with him that I never finished the arrow upgrades. If I had, that cable never would have snapped. I’ve spent the entire last week holed up in my lab, no distractions, to finish every arrow he’s ever asked for and any I could possibly come up with besides.”

“Oh, Tony,” she said softly. “Just _talk_ to him, all right? Nobody would blame you for that, least of all him.”

“I blame me,” he croaked.

“Nat’s right, Tony,” Steve said. “There’s no way you could have predicted this would happen. Stuff like this, it’s inevitable and I’m as certain as Nat that Clint wouldn’t blame you either.”

“Tony, he thinks you hate him,” Natasha said. Tony flinched. “You need to fix that.”

Wiping a hand over his face, Tony sighed. “Yeah, Christ… okay.” Pushing away from the counter and Natasha, avoiding looking at either of them, Tony hightailed it out of there – without a clue as to where to go next. “JARVIS, where’s Clint?”

“Sir, your privacy protocols forbids me from – “

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved at the empty air as he stood in the elevator. “I know what I programmed, but you can at least tell me if he’s in the building.”

“That depends on your definition of ‘in’ the building. Strictly speaking, he is  _not_  inside the Tower.”

Tony’s heart leapt into his throat. Again. Dammit Clint. “JARVIS, roof.”

“Very well, sir.”

It didn’t take long for the elevator doors to open up on the roof. Honestly, Tony should have known to check here first. Hawkeye loved high places. In fact, Clint told everyone who asked that he saw better from afar, but he’d also told Tony once that it helped him clear his head.

Sure enough, Clint was standing barefoot near the edge of the roof and Tony gulped. Clint was standing far too close to the edge than he was truly comfortable with and he didn’t want to startle the other man. He hadn’t brought his suit, because why would he have? He’d just gone to hang out with his fellow Avengers in the common area and now here he was, faced with the idea that he might just scare Clint right over the edge.

Maybe he should try later?

Or at least get his suit and then come back, just in case?

“Stop skulking around back there. What do you want, Tony?” Clint asked without turning, his voice weary and… fuck, Natasha was right.

Tony had to fix this.

* * * * * * >>\-----CLINT-----> * * * * **

Clint heard the elevator doors open with a ping and the quick couple of steps it took for someone to clear the doors. He was fairly sure Nat hadn’t chased him up here though she knew it was a refuge of his. Steve  _didn’t_ know, though he was team captain, and everyone else was off and away doing who knew what, so it could only be Tony.

The last person he thought would actually come up here.

Unless he didn’t  _know_ Clint was going to be up here? It  _was_ Tony’s tower, after all. He could go wherever the fuck he wanted.

Clint waited for him to speak, or to turn around and get back in the elevator, but the minutes ticked by and Tony didn’t do either of those things.

“Stop skulking around back there. What do you want, Tony?” Clint managed to hold in the sigh, but wasn’t able to keep the resignation from his voice.

“Well, ideally, you stepping away from the edge would be great. You’re kinda making me nervous, birdbrain,” Tony said, his voice a little closer than before.

“Why? Think I’m gonna be clumsy enough to fall off again?” This time he knew Tony could hear the bitterness that was welling up in him.

“You do spend an inordinate amount of time falling off of things… but Clint… I’m sorry.”

He blinked and finally turned to face Tony, finding that he wasn’t all that far away. Still not close enough to touch though, as if he was afraid he’d spook Clint if he got too close.

“Wait… what? What are  _you_ sorry for?” It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t Tony’s fault he was forced over the side, or that his arrow failed him. In fact, Tony had saved his life. Why the hell would he be apologizing?

Tony’s mouth worked, his eyes darted away and back again, but then he took a deep breath and stood up straighter, finally looking Clint in the eyes.

“You came to me for help with your arrows and I failed you. We went into battle with weaponry  _you_  said needed replacing. I allowed you to go out in the field with faulty equipment. You may have fallen off a building because of the bad guys, but I prevented you from saving yourself.” Tony stood rock still, every muscle tight, his hands clenched at his sides even as Clint stared at him in disbelief.

This was why Tony was sorry? Was this why he’d shut Clint out too? Hiding away because he felt  _guilty_?

Clint shook his head and took a step away from the edge, watching Tony’s eyes snap down, watched him inhale – and hold his breath until Clint took another few steps away from the edge and closer to Tony, watched him exhale, his eyes closing for an instant as tension seemed to bleed from him.

Huh, Clint being so close to the edge really did bother Tony. Had this always been a thing, or was a new development?

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was a fluke. Tony, I was never mad at you,” Clint said.

Tony choked out a small laugh. “Natasha said you wouldn’t blame me. Christ, but you really should.”

“Did you tamper with my arrows?” Clint asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He didn’t think even Tony would stoop that low but… maybe he was wrong?

Tony’s head shot up. “Hell no!”

“Then I don’t see why I’d blame you for an accident. That’s all it was, Tony. Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Actually,” Tony said slowly, a grin spreading over his face and making Clint’s breath catch. He’d missed that damn smile. “Only partially. I’ve got something to show you.”

He strode towards the elevator, slowing when he looked over his shoulder to find Clint still standing there. Clint wasn’t sure what to make of Tony’s fast changing moods.

“Come on, I think you’ll like this,” Tony insisted. Clint took a closer look at his face and realized, Tony’s mood hadn’t really changed, only his outward appearance. He was still anxious, still nervous and uncertain and his eyes practically were pleading with Clint.

Nodding, Clint followed him to the elevator, the doors closing them in to the small, confined space, leaving them closer than they’d been since Tony had brought Clint back to the Tower and straight to medical.

“JARVIS, you know where to take us.”

“Of course, sir.”

The elevator started gently moving and neither of them spoke. Despite the fresh, new awkwardness that had risen between them, the elevator reached its destination and was opening its doors with another soft ping faster than Clint had expected.

Tony took his elbow and urged him onto the new level, one Clint had never been on before. There was an entire wall of shelves with what he assumed were supplies, another held a glass case filled with weapons – all of them bows, and some of them looked custom made – and in the center of the room he could see a series of worktables and a bunch of fancy machining equipment – presses, clamps, etc. Past all of it was a doorway that was currently closed.

Clint stared about him in confusion. “Its…  a workshop.”

“Not just  _any_ workshop,” Tony said proudly. He walked forward, turned and spread his hands out. “It’s an arrow making workshop.”

“Okay,” Clint said slowly. “Why? I don’t need anything fancy to make most of my arrows. I just work on them in my spare time, usually in my rooms.”

“Hey, don’t judge so quick! Let me give you the grand tour!” Tony insisted.

“Tony, I don’t need a tour,” Clint protested. “Tell me you didn’t turn this whole floor into an arrow making facility just for me?”

“Of course not, only half. That half,” Tony pointed at the door in the opposite wall, “Is the testing range.”

“We already have a range,” Clint tried to point out.

Tony scoffed. “Not like this! That’s for target practice. _This_ is for experimenting.” He stepped over to one of the tables where several arrows were already laid out. “Look, I’ve got the confetti arrow, a new grappling arrow – actually, I have a couple of those, to see which you like best – I have a parachute arrow and a bunch of different styles of signal arrows and – “

Tony was rambling, his words picking up speed the longer Clint stayed quiet, as the implications of what Tony was saying finally pushed through Clint’s brain. Tony hadn’t just been avoiding him, he’d spent the last week or so holed up making the new workshop and every arrow Clint had ever asked Tony for help with – whether jokingly or not – and a few more besides.

With special emphasis on the one that had failed Clint so spectacularly on their last mission together, and a few others that would go hand in hand with it.

Tony hadn’t just felt guilty, Clint realized, he’d been fucking _scared_. For _him._ The image of Tony on the roof just moments before and how he’d only relaxed when Clint had stepped away from the edge of the building flashed through his mind.

Without thinking, Clint closed the distance between himself and Tony and wrapped his arms around him, Tony stuttering to a surprised stop at the touch before melting into it, bringing his arms in to hold onto Clint, his grip tight, desperate.

“Thank you, Tony,” Clint said. “This means… a whole hell of a lot, actually. To know you care so much about me that… I thought you didn’t want me around anymore.”

“Never that,” Tony choked out, his fingers spasming tighter, his face buried in Clint’s shirt. “Everyone’s left me, except Pepper and Happy. I chase everyone away, usually without even meaning to. But I _never_ wanted to chase you away.”

Clint chuckled. “Well, now that I know that, it’s gonna take a lot more effort on your part to actually succeed.”

“Promise?”

Easing back to look Tony in the eyes, Clint swallowed against his doubts. He’d been wrong when he thought Tony wanted nothing to do with him, maybe he’d also been wrong when he believed that Tony didn’t reciprocate his feelings. The vibe of the room was certainly making clashing with those beliefs and urging Clint to do something probably foolish.

_I hope to god I’m not wrong. I better not be wrong or this is going to be the most awkward kiss in my entire life_ – Clint thought as his eyes flicked from Tony’s suddenly hopeful eyes, to his just barely parted lips and back again. Clint licked his own lips and shifted a little closer, watching Tony’s eyes widen.

“You gonna kiss me, Barton?” Tony whispered, a smile tugging up one side of his mouth.

“Only if you want me too,” Clint whispered back, his heart pounding so hard Tony _had_ to be hearing it.

“God, yes,” Tony breathed. “I’ve just got one question – is this an accept my apology style kiss, or something more? Cause, I’ll be honest with you, I’ve been hoping for something more for a long da –  mmmmhhh…”

Tony’s eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of Clint’s lips to his and Clint moaned lightly as each gentle brush, each breath he caught caused him to shudder in Tony’s arms. He pushed forward lightly, a hand coming up to thread through Tony’s short hair and Tony whimpered – honest to God _whimpered –_ when Clint parted Tony’s lips with his tongue and explored languidly.

Turned out, there _was_ a way to shut Tony up – it only involved pulling out the most wondrous noises Clint had ever heard in return.

Finally, after a series of long drawn out kisses and of gentle, barely there pecks, after Clint had tasted Tony just enough to know he’ never get enough, he pulled back, panting. “Something more, definitely. Fuck, Tony, I think I could just stand here and kiss you forever.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Tony said with a grin, his hands reaching up to cradle Clint’s face, drawing him back in for more kisses – a little more desperate, just a touch harsher than before.

Clint had no objection to that either and he might have smirked at Tony but his mouth was otherwise occupied.

Tony pulled away and Clint whined, chasing after him. Tony chuckled, his thumbs caressing Clint’s cheeks. Clint opened his eyes – when the hell had he closed them? – to stare at Tony, to see the tears tracking down his face.

“Oh, Tony,” Clint said gently, reaching to swipe them away.

“I’m okay,” Tony said. “promise. Just… unbelievably happy right now. I thought I’d screwed up everything between us: our friendship and our potential for _this._ I thought I almost lost you – both literally, and then…’ Tony swallowed.

“Tony, stop, you don’t have to keep apologizing,” Clint said. “It wasn’t your fault. It was just bad luck and ill timing. You saved me. Probably won’t be the last time. And I’ll save you too. Even without this, we’re teammates, it’s what we do.”

“You already save me,” Tony said.

“You’re such a sap,” Clint grinned, rewarding Tony with another kiss.

“I am not!” Tony huffed. Clint stared. “Okay, fine, but you can’t tell Natasha _or_ Pepper. Neither of them will let me live it down.”

“What’ll you give me to keep quiet?” Clint wheedled, angling forward and nosing at Tony’s neck. Tony laughed.

“I was thinking another kiss. Maybe a dozen. Price is negotiable,” Tony gasped out the words as Clint mouthed at his neck.

Clint hummed thoughtfully. “Let’s consider this a down payment then.”

Tony curled into the next kiss with a grin, slipping his arms down and around Clint’s neck. Clint shivered around the look in Tony’s eyes.

Tony’s grin widened into a smirk. “Yes, let’s.”

Clint may have bitten off more than he could chew with one Tony Stark, but he had the feeling he would _never_ regret it.

Others might though…

 

**Author's Note:**

> So. Tony and Clint. not a pairing i would have thought of or even gone out looking for, but this was surprisingly fun to write. not sure i got enough of Tony's snark though.


End file.
